Catching a Rebound
by Macaulay10
Summary: Cooper doesn't want to be Heather's rebound. Well, Heather is about to navigate the dating waters and find herself a rebound… while also solving a murder. What will it take for Cooper to finally come around?
1. Chapter 1

**This story takes place one month after Size 14… though in this version, the very last bit where she meets her new, sexy math professor did not happen. In my version, that book ended with her and Cooper in the car, him saying he wouldn't be the rebound and her saying things were fine for now. **

**Catching a Rebound**

_Chapter 1_

"I need a man."

Magda looks up at me, one eyebrow arched suspiciously. And why not? All she said was 'good morning.' I'm sure my response wasn't quite what she had in mind.

"I know someone," she finally says, when her look clears.

"Great!" I say, leaning against her counter, downing my second coffee of the day. It's not even ten in the morning, and already my day is turning into a coffee binge fest. That's what happens when there are two murders at the school early in the morning. Yes, again. This time it was a remedial math professor – Tad something or other. And a student in (where else?) Fischer Hall. "Get my mind off this awful morning. Who's the guy?"

"Well," she says, popping a bite of her pop tart in her mouth. "He's great. Funny. Sweet. Smart. Incredibly handsome…"

"Sounds like a catch," I say, forcing a smile. I really don't need a man. Or want a man. But I still need a rebound. It's been one month and I have not found _anyone. _And I've put myself out there! I go to bars with Patty and Magda and totally spark up conversations with cute guys. They always seem a little turned off by all the murder I seem to be surrounded by. I allowed Patty to set me up on an online dating service. Although all I really do there is poke people. I even went to a party for single people (I know!) hosted by New York College's own Muffy Fowler. Everyone there was honestly just like Muffy, which is why that night ended with me curled up with Lucy at home watching a_ Golden Girls _marathon on TV Land.

"Oh, he is," Magda enthuses. "He's a detective, too. Very sexy occupation—"

"—Magda," I say, cutting her off. "If you're going to suggest I go out with Cooper, need I remind you that I asked and he said 'no.' Case closed."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "He was scared. I know he likes you. Just last week, when he was here waiting for you, he got this look every time someone walked through the door that wasn't you. Like all hopeful and then serious. When you finally came over to him, he smiled in this way—"

"—because we're _friends._ I smiled at you when I spotted you just now. And, no offense, but I don't feel that way about you."

"Wells!"

I jump and turn. I know that voice. My good friend, Detective Canavan.

"Here we go," I say, swiveling around on my stool. "Time to play 'tell me everything you know about the victim from Fischer Hall.'"

"You were supposed to meet me in the victim's dorm room," he says, looking pretty peeved. "Twenty minutes ago."

"I needed sustenance."

I stand, preparing to walk away with Canavan but first turn to Magda. "When you find me a real, _interested _guy, you let me know, okay?"

"Oh, I will," she says coyly. Ugh. She won't. She is the biggest fan in the Heather and Cooper fan club. And I'm the only other member.

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Heather Wells is going to be the death of me. Honestly. I have never in my life met such a magnet for trouble. Why does she insist on staying employed in a place where people are constantly _dying_?

I walk down the familiar hallway of Fischer Hall, trying to push down the slight anxiety I've had since my pal Joe McKee from the NYPD called me a half hour ago.

I swear I spend more time in this dorm – I mean residence hall – than I do at my own home.

I walk into her office and spot her and Canavan talking – him taking notes undoubtedly about the latest Fischer Hall victim.

Heather stops mid-sentence when she sees me enter her office and looks surprised. "Hey, Coop," she says. "You didn't have to come all the way—"

"I heard what happened," I say, looking at Canavan. "Don't either of you keep your cell phones on?"

Heather takes her phone out of her pocket and glances at it. "Oh, it's on silent. Sorry."

Canavan glances at his phone, too. "Six missed calls." He looks up at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Worried about your girlfriend, were you?"

"McKee called to tell me what happened, but all he could tell me was that this time a student and someone who works at the school were killed. He didn't know anything more than that," I say, stuffing my hands in my pocket and looking away from both of them as I try to regain my composure. Canavan always calls Heather my girlfriend. And for some reason, I never correct him. "Heather here just happens to work here," I point out. I look up at her and force a smile. "And as we both know, she has a real tendency to find trouble when it's at this college."

"Oh, Coop, you care!" she says sweetly, with a small hint of friendly humor.

I smile at her and shake my head, relaxing a bit.

"Obviously Miss Wells here is just fine," Canavan points out.

"Well luckily Magda answers _her_ phone," I say. "So I knew you were okay." I sit down in one of the chairs opposite her desk. "So, did you know either of them?"

Heather shakes her head. "Not exactly. Melissa, the student, came to one of the hall meetings. I remember she asked twice about where we keep our stash of free condoms."

My eyebrows shoot up at that and I instantly flush, just a bit. Heather's an adult – one of my closest friends now, at that. But hearing her talk openly about anything to do with sex makes me a little… uncomfortable. After all, I've known her for nearly half my life. She was a teen when we met! I guess on some level I still associate her with some amount of innocence.

Canavan is peeking over Heather's computer with sudden interest in what is on the screen. Heather catches his expression and turns her attention to the computer. Her expression quickly goes from shocked to what looks like embarrassed… and if I'm not mistaken, a little excited.

"Uh, let me just close that box," she says quickly to Canavan. She clicks a few buttons, and I won't lie, my curiosity is completely piqued.

"What box?" I ask, my gaze never leaving her face.

"_Nothing," _she says, quickly, looking pleadingly at Canavan.

He doesn't take the hint, though… or at least he purposely ignores her imploring look.

"A dating site?" he asks, outright laughing. "What are you doing on a _dating site_?"

I smile at Heather now, too. "Yes, Heather… what _are _you doing on a dating site?"

A little nagging feeling is pulling at me in this very unsettling way. It's probably indigestion. I clear my throat and raise my eyebrows at Heather, giving her my best "well?" expression.

"None of your business," she finally says to both Canavan and me. "It was just a pop-up ad anyway. I wasn't on any site."

I can see a blush creeping up her cheeks and I laugh inwardly. She is a horrible liar; she always has been.

"Canavan, I think we covered everything, don't you?" she asks.

He glances down at his notepad and groans. "I guess so."

She grabs her cell phone and looks down at it and then back up at me. "Coop, thanks for coming by. As you can see, I am fine. And I won't get involved with this one. Don't you worry."

I stand up and take a few steps toward her. "Do I have your word on that?" I ask. Because honestly… once I realized she was okay on my way over here, I felt an entirely new wave of anxiety at the idea of what this death really means. Every time something like this happens, Heather ends up right smack in the middle of it, hanging – sometimes literally – on for dear life, because she has a complete inability to leave the police work to the, well, _police_.

I'm honestly not sure I can take it, if she does that again.

"Of course," she says coyly, winking at me, offering up one of her infectious smiles. "Now, I have to go. Official residence hall duty!"

She says goodbye to us both and runs out of her office, dialing her phone on her way out.

I take a few steps into the hall and see that she's stopped and put the phone up to her ear. She can't see me, but I know I am in hearing range of whatever phone call she's about to have.

I should walk away.

But… I'm rooted to the spot.

"Mags," she finally says, excitedly. "Guess what?... One of the guys I poked asked me out…._ On a date!... _Me!"

I make my way out of her building at that. I mean, really, you should not eavesdrop on your good friend and roommate. It's just not right.

But I can't help turning over what I just heard in my head. She's going on a date.

With someone that she _poked._

I have no idea what that means.

But I'm pretty sure I don't like it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you SO much for the reviews so far! It really makes my day when I see one come in :)_

_I hope you enjoy the next part! – MAC _

**Chapter 2**

"It's just a little date, Coop," Patty says into the phone.

"I know. But Heather's a little… out of the dating loop," I explain.

"She's actually never been _in_ the dating loop," Patty says, correcting me. "She hasn't seen anyone since Jordan, and there was no one before him. And they didn't exactly meet in a normal way. Plus… she was a teen when they met. Times have changed. A _lot._"

I called Patty to feel more reassured about this, and as the conversation goes on, I actually feel worse than I did before. "Thanks for the recap, Patty. I know all of that. It's why I am asking you to just check in with her."

"And say what, exactly? No sex 'til the third date? Make sure he calls you, and not the other way around? Check for a suntan line on his ring finger?"

I roll my eyes. "That's not what I meant at all," I mutter, growing aggravated. "She's going on a date with someone she met _online._" I explain once again. "Just make sure she knows that she should under no circumstances meet this guy at his apartment or house. Nowhere private or secluded. She doesn't know him, but he asked her out on a website. He could be anyone. She trusts people a little too easily even though she's been burned by a few of the people she's trusted. More times than I – and you, I'm sure – like to think about. Plus, she attracts trouble like no one I have ever met."

"So she should be sure this date takes place at a public venue," Patty offers.

"Exactly," I say, brightening a little, as Patty finally begins to catch my drift. "And she should really know him well before they go anywhere that's not public."

"Cooper, why don't you just tell her this yourself?"

I sigh and rake a hand through my hair. "She never mentioned this date to me," I admit. "I'm sure she's told you, though. So, please, just do this for me, okay?"

"For you… okay," she finally says.

I hang up the phone and look at it. She said she'd call her and tell her everything and keep an eye on her for me.

So why do I still feel so… off?

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I walk into Zen Café, feeling a little nervous. I mean, first of all, I am not a vegan and am not exactly sure what I'll be ordering. And what could I possibly have in common with someone whose favorite restaurant is Zen Café?

Secondly… this is sort of a date! I have butterflies in my stomach at the very idea that I, Heather Wells, am going on a date! I'm getting me a rebound romance in, oh… five minutes ago. I'm late. How did that happen?

"Heather?"

I look up from my watch and see a really handsome man walking toward me, smiling. He has brown hair and brown eyes, tan skin… all in all, I'm impressed.

Maybe Cooper was right and a rebound is just what I need before settling down.

"Ryan?" I ask. I shake his hand. "Nice to meet you!"

Did that sound too eager? I think it sounded a little too eager. I mean, it's not _that _nice to meet him.

"You too," he says, eyeing me up and down. Is it me or does he not look as impressed with me as I am with him? He turns and heads me to our table.

As we make really bad small talk and order our food – and wine – I begin to think that maybe I was just being paranoid when I first met him. Maybe he was just checking me out. Maybe he was impressed. Not everyone shows their attraction for others the way I do – by outright ogling them and being giddy like a teenager.

"You look different than I remember you," he says after our food arrives, smiling. Though the smile seems forced.

I bury the sinking feeling that is entering my gut and try to smile back at him. "Interesting that you remember me," I say. "Have we met before?"

"I have sisters," he says, like that explains everything.

"Do I know them?" Where is he going with this?

"They sang that song of yours for like two years straight!" he says, sitting back, smiling as a look of nostalgia passes over his features. His look clears and he looks at me again, squarely. "I hated the song. No offense."

I put my hands up in a "none taken" kind of way because… well, I am positive I'll never see him again after this date. If you can even call it that.

"But I thought you were pretty hot."

I nod, blushing. This date is going from bad to worse fast.

"Do you still keep in touch with Jordan?" he asks, doing a 180 on our already-flailing conversation.

"Jordan—"

"Cartwright. Your ex," he explains like he needs to assist me in remembering who Jordan is. Jeez, I only spent ten years with the man.

"Kind of," I say. I look around. Is it too early to flag the waitress down and ask for the check?

"I always wanted to be in a boy band," he says, leaning forward. "I can sing. I can dance. I have a very clean-cut look," he says. He winks at me. "I'm not being arrogant, I swear. I'm actually very modest. But I know women like what they see when they look at me."

Okay, where is the waitress?

"It's just… I was wondering if you could introduce me to him."

I blink kind of erratically at the man sitting before me. I'm almost positive he asked me out to get to Jordan. I knew this date could go many ways, but I really hadn't anticipated _this._

"I think Jordan is already all set," I say. "I mean, Easy Street doesn't really have any openings for new members. And he's pretty busy these days with Tania and their life…"

What am I doing? I should be halfway home by now.

"So you can't introduce me to Jordan? You don't think I have star quality?" He looks genuinely shocked.

"I am confused, Ryan," I say after a moment. "You asked me out on a dating website. But… you seem much more interested in Jordan Cartwright than me!"

He stands up, looking angry now.

"Did you just call me _gay?_" he asks, his cheeks turning crimson and his eyes flashing.

"Not at all," I say, stifling a smile. "The gay men that I know dress way better than you do," I say, looking him up and down now, and realizing that he actually wore running pants – _running pants! – _on our date. And he had the gall to look _me _up and down. "And they are much better company, too."

"Well, don't worry," he says miserably. "You won't have the pleasure of my company for another moment."

And with that, he storms out, leaving me gaping at his retreating form.

When I do get the bill – because yes, he totally stuck me with it – my eyes nearly fall out of my head.

He ordered a $80 glass of wine and a $25 tofu salad?

I am never going out with someone from a dating site ever again.

And I am _never _stepping foot inside Zen Palate again either.

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"Actually, quite a few of my closest friends have met their true loves on internet dating sites," Patty says later on the phone after I've told her all about my date. "I wouldn't swear it off just because of one bad seed."

"Well, I'm going back to the sidelines for a long time," I state, as I enter my brownstone. "Getting out there, meeting people… _dating… _it's awful!"

"It can't be that bad."

"It's that bad. Forget this whole rebound nonsense. I'm going to sit tight until someone asks me out in person. Someone I know. In the meantime, I am going to just enjoy my independence."

"You go girl," Patty says, and I can hear she wants to laugh.

"Thanks," I say anyway.

An hour later, I'm curled up on the couch, under a blanket, cuddling with Lucy watching _I Dream of Jeannie _on TV Land when Cooper returns home from… well, from who knows where.

He looks surprised to see me.

"I thought you were out," he says, furrowing his brow together as he takes in me… Lucy… the chocolate wrappers on the coffee table… the half-eaten bowl of popcorn on my lap… and the TV Land marathon.

"Oh," I say, looking at him with some surprise. "Do you need me to leave?" I ask looking over his shoulder. "Do you have company? I can get lost…"

He smiles and walks deeper into the living room. "No," he simply says. "I just thought you had a date," he explains. "I thought you'd still be out." He shrugs.

"How did you know I had a date tonight?"

"Magda," is all he says and I nod. Of course. She most likely let him know all about it to see if he sounded jealous or whatever. Because she's such a total hopeless romantic.

She needs to learn that this is one romance that is not going to happen and stop torturing herself.

He sits down beside me. "So, how did it go?" he asks, though I can see in his expression that he must be able to tell it was a total dud of a date. I mean… I am home at 8pm watching TV!

"Let's see," I say, sitting up straighter and smiling at him. "Zen Palate was his choice for a good first date venue. He told me he hated my most popular song, wanted to meet Jordan and get my help launching his boy band career, and then he stuck me with the bill after he thought that I implied he was gay."

Cooper winces and shakes his head. "That's… that's pretty bad," he admits, laughing a little but looking like he's holding back from probably laughing hysterically.

I roll my eyes, smiling, and look at the TV.

"Major Nelson and Jeannie make it look so easy. For them, there's magic, romance… no one is using the other to meet that person's ex so they can become the next Backstreet Boy."

Cooper laughs. "Well… it took Major Nelson and Jeannie four years to finally get together," he points out.

"I know, but—"

I trail off and my eyes widen. "You are a fan of _I Dream of Jeannie_?"

"I was more of a Jeannie fan, yes, than a Samantha fan," he says. I almost never meet anyone who prefers _Jeannie_ to _Bewitched_!

"Me too!" I say.

He settles into the couch more and grabs a handful of popcorn.

"I mean, you start _Bewitched_ and Darren and Samantha are already married," he explains. "On I Dream of Jeannie, we watch them fall in love… make mistakes… almost miss their chance together… and we get to watch them _finally _get together."

"Yes! The courtship!" I say, giddily. "It's the best part of a good love story."

He nods. "I agree," he says quietly. "The best love stories take their time."

He looks at me in a way that completely turns my heart to mush. I know he doesn't mean anything by it but…

I smile inwardly and – I can't help it – hope flickers inside of me.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this part! I will really try to get another part up ASAP, especially since my favorite PI is mostly absent from this installment, which pains me. I hope you like it if you're still reading. Thank you to everyone who has commented/followed the story and whatnot- it means the world and really motivates me to KEEP GOING! :)**

**Chapter 3**

Two weeks later, I still haven't had a date. Though if dates are like the one I had with Ryan, I am just fine on my own. So I won't have a rebound romance. So what?

Okay, so it means I won't get a chance to date Cooper. If, you know, he had actually wanted to date me at all.

The more I think about it, I think he was just trying to be nice anyway. He clearly wasn't interested. But instead of saying "no way, you're just not my type," to me, which may have wounded me (read: that would have completely, emotionally destroyed me, murdering all hopes I have ever had in my life on the romantic front), he made it sound like the timing just was not right for us.

As a friend, I appreciate that. I do. As a woman with a severe crush on my best friend, my landlord, and my ex-boyfriend's amazing older brother – I don't appreciate it one bit.

Well, what can I do? Cooper is an amazing friend. That much I know. That much he has proven over and over. So that will just have to do. Besides, he's totally dating someone right now. He doesn't think I know. But do. It's that woman, Marian. The one I met at the Pansy Awards. She had seemed into him that night. He had seemed… a little put off by her that night.

But they clearly have worked out their issues. I came home earlier today to take Lucy out for an afternoon walk and spotted Marian slipping out of Cooper's bedroom. When she saw me, she winked. _Winked._

I raised my eyebrows and very pointedly did _not_ wink back. Cooper can do whatever he wants honestly. But I'm not about to high-five his latest conquests.

I left quickly after walking Lucy. Cooper never knew I was there. He's always been funny about letting me in on that side of his life so I made it easy for him.

"Heather?"

I look up from my desk (from the pile of paperwork that I am most definitely not reading like I am supposed to be) and find Sarah standing before me, looking like she didn't really have time for me to be daydreaming about Cooper.

"You told me to tell you when Kara Parmente checked back in to the building."

I lift my eyebrows and stare at her. "Yes?" I eventually prompt her.

"She's back!" she says with a little attitude before stalking off, clearly having had enough of me.

Great. Kara's roommate Melissa was the student who had been killed. And… okay, I know I promised to stay out of this but… these are my kids. Who was I kidding? I had to find out more about what happened that night. Hours after I went off duty and went home a student was murdered in cold blood, as was a teacher.

What happened? _Why her? Why him?_

"I really don't know," Kara says to me a little while later, sitting on her bed, grabbing a Hello Kitty pillow and hugging it to her chest.

"I know you don't know what happened to Melissa, but… I just want to know more about what happened that night, where she went."

"I already told that old guy – the cop – about it. I… um…. I slept somewhere else that night because she had put a sock on the door. That was our code. So she was –"

"—yes I know what the sock implied," I cut in, shaking my head at the judgment calls that most of these kids made every day.

"And when I got back, she was asleep! Or so I thought," she says, turning instantly pale. Even though she has told this same story to a bunch of people, the effect hadn't worn off. She had gone to sleep in a bed five feet away from a corpse that night.

I close my eyes, the image stirring something inside, something familiar that I had felt before. Even the kids I don't know here feel like mine. They all feel like my responsibility.

"Who was she seeing?"

"I told the cop, she wasn't—"

"—seeing anyone in particular, I know," I say quickly. "You said that."

"Then why are you here?" Kara asks, looking up at me, clearly wishing she was doing _anything _else right now.

I sit down on the chair at her little desk. "Because I am just getting the feeling that you're leaving something out."

She instantly looks uncomfortable. "I'm not," she says.

"Kara," I say, waiting until she meets my gaze to continue. "Every time you tell your story, you bite your nails, you play with your hair, you look everywhere but at me. Or the cop. These are all classic signs of lying. Or omitting anyway."

She bites her lip and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. Then, realizing that she is doing _exactly _what I just expressed, she narrows her eyes at me, annoyed.

"You do know that it's a criminal offense to lie to a police officer during a murder investigation." Yes. I go there. Mostly because I'm hungry and don't have time for her to beat around the bush all night. She doesn't need to know that this is not strictly true. I need to get out of here! I have a life.

Okay, not much of one. But still. She's a student and I'm her resident hall assistant director. She should respect my time and imagine that I have a very important life to get to when we wrap up here.

Her eyes widen instantly and she searches my eyes for signs that I'm bluffing. I don't back down. She sighs loudly – dramatically – and flicks her wrist at me, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, but… it was a secret. And I swore – _I swore – _that I would never tell."

"She's not here to hold you to that now," I say gently. "Plus, I bet she'd want you to help find out who did this to her."

She shakes her head. "No, I didn't swear anything to _Melissa._ I swore to Mr. Tocco."

"Mr… the teacher who died?"

She nods. "He was trying to find out which teacher Melissa was sleeping with."

Her eyes really widen now and she claps her mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry! But this is big stuff. I can't—I can't!"

My lips draw a hard line as I take this in. Melissa was sleeping with a teacher. But it wasn't the one who died like I had suspected. It was another teacher. Why was Tad Tocco interested? And did his interest get him killed?

Was there something unsavory happening on this campus between some of the professors and some of the students? Had Melissa been caught up in the idea of romance and become a sad victim, in the wrong place at the wrong time? Was Tad interested in her too? Was he killed by another teacher? A jealous teacher? Or had he been trying to stop this nonsense from continuing?

"Kara," I say very seriously, looking at her squarely.

"Please!" she says – begs – as she jumps up from the bed and kneels before me, looking desperate. "This is dangerous and I've said too much."

"You haven't said too much," I promise her. "I can help. We can figure this out. I just want to know what you know so that I can help you."

"But the cops—"

"—they want to help you too. And put this guy away so Melissa's death can mean something – can prevent something like that happening to someone else. Someone like you."

"No, I mean… the cops. They walk around in here. They aren't discreet. And the people involved can sniff them out. They know. They will _kill_ me if they figure out that the cops are on this. You can't involve the cops. I will help you, Heather. I will tell you what I know. You can look into this. I've heard rumors that you've done it before. You've looked into things like this and figured out who the bad guy was _without _the cops."

I smile despite myself. I mean, it's not completely accurate. Canavan would definitely say he had a hand in all my past murder investigations. But that's pretty cool that rumors are floating around out there that make me sound pretty exciting, if I don't say so myself.

Kara swallows hard and squeezes my arm. "I won't say a thing though if you don't _promise _me that you'll keep the cops out of it. Please."

I look at her, see a look of determination I had never seen on any student's face. Ever.

This girl is in deep. She's stuck. Trapped. Alone. And she's dead serious. I realize in an instant that if this deal with me doesn't go her way, we will never get this guy.

I nod and keep her gaze on mine. "Okay. I promise." I take a deep breath, staring at Kara but not really seeing her. Cooper is going to kill me. Well, he will kill me if he ever figures out just how badly I have broken my promise to him to keep another promise for this girl sitting before me.

But how can I not help her?

"Just you and me, right?" she asks.

"Just you and me," I say nodding.

Oh yes, Cooper will kill me for sure.

If I don't get killed by the murderer first, that is.

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	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

I really cannot stand Marian. I know _exactly _what she's up to. Showing up at my doorstep, looking stunning, pretending to be devastated – and then hiring me to find out if her boyfriend is cheating on her.

She took our break up last year badly. I know. I didn't handle it all that well. And the last few times we've run into one another, I've practically brushed her off. But I didn't think she'd resort to creating a fictional boyfriend to spend time with me. But… until I can prove that she's made the whole thing up, I cannot exactly turn down business. It's been slow. And I could use the money.

So far, it's been a dead end. Unsurprisingly, of course. For the past two days, she has come over to share details of her "case," and she keeps steering the conversation to my personal life – wondering if I am dating anyone, seeing my family much (she always was fascinated by my family's celebrity), and whatnot. And it's becoming… well, annoying.

To make matters worse, Heather has barely been around since Marian started coming back around. I know she has seen Marian, too, because Marian made an off-hand, prying remark. "I see you're still offering free housing to your brother's ex."

I rolled my eyes in lieu of an answer.

"It's pretty ridiculous that she is still here," Marian pressed. I looked at her, my expression daring her to continue. I guess she misunderstood my look for encouragement to elaborate more. "I mean, it's been awhile. It's high time she stopped mooching off the Cartwright family members and got her own life."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, closed my eyes and counted to five. Why did I become an overprotective ape when it came to Heather? But here I was, ready to kick this woman out of my house for even daring to say anything about Heather.

"Cooper. I know she's a friend of yours. I just also know that you can be too nice sometimes. You've extended to her your boundless generosity for possibly too long and I'm sure you are not sure how to have the conversation with her—"

"—the conversation?" I asked.

"It's uncomfortable," she added. "If you'd like, I can tell her that it's probably a good time now for her to find a new place to live. You know, woman to woman."

I looked at her so quickly at that and leaned in close, my expression still and cold, I'm sure. "You do, and we are done here, Marian. Heather can stay as long as she likes, she's my friend, and she knows she is welcome here. You say _anything _to make her feel otherwise—"

"—okay, okay," she said, holding her hands up in a defensive way. "I just thought that you might enjoy your home again if you had it to yourself."

"Well, in any case, it's not your business," I said, wanting to nip this conversation in the bud. "You are my _client_, not my therapist."

Her eyes widened at that, and I detected instantly her frustration, which only further proved that she was hoping that she could become more than my client during our time together.

Little did she know – I enjoyed my home far more with Heather in it. And lately, she just hasn't been in it much at all, which is why I've found myself heading to Fischer Hall.

Tracking down Marian's imaginary ex is hitting the inevitable dead end I knew it would when I signed onto her case. With time to spare, I decided to check in on Heather, who has been very noticeably _not _been checking in with me at all these days.

Canavan has assured me the Fischer Hall case is at a complete dead end. Far as he can tell, Heather's not up to anything bad or dangerous.

But I have this feeling—

And for some reason, she's shutting me out completely.

I know things are… different now. With us, that is. After I told her I wouldn't be her rebound guy, she has tried to date. I know – of course I know – that she's trying to have some kind of rebound romance. Maybe so we could have a shot. Maybe because my words resonated and she realized what I know; that she does have to move on from her past and get back out into the dating world.

The thing is; I meant what I said. But her launch into the dating world has also completely unnerved me. I trust her, but… I don't trust men. I know; I'm a man, and I should have some faith in our sex. But she has so little experience in the dating world. She's naïve, almost innocent in many ways. If someone took advantage of her or… caused her any kind of pain… on _my _advice, I couldn't handle it.

Plus, I'm realizing her launch into the dating world right now might just be the worst idea I've ever had… she attracts danger in an alarming way. What if she falls in with someone dangerous… someone who…

I sigh. I have to let go. I know I do. She's not my responsibility. God knows, I feel like she is. I won't deny that. But she is a grown woman. I know she can take care of herself. But I still worry.

Lately, she's barely coming home, I have no idea who she might be seeing, what she might be doing, there's a murder investigation at the college once again.

I can't lie; I'm nervous. I've got Heather on the brain and she's making me nervous.

If I'm honest, I have had her on the brain for a long time. But like always, I have no idea what to do where she's concerned. She's historically been off-limits romantically for me. I mean, when I met her she was incredibly young. Then, she was dating my brother. Then, engaged to said brother. She was a pop star; not exactly my cup of tea either.

The past year, she's reinvented herself and… I like it. Oh, I have always really liked Heather. I would never have even cared about their breakup if I didn't, let alone offered her so much help in rebuilding her life.

But I'm still getting used to this Heather. The one who's a normal working woman, unattached (and more specifically unattached to my own brother), very cool and funny, honest and real—

It's all still new from the Heather I originally met. It's hard to look at someone differently after you've spent half your life keeping them in the very safe category of 'friend.'

Yes, Heather's been off-limits from the beginning.

But lately, I find that I am purposely pushing all thoughts to do with my roommate and friend to this place inside to analyze later. Now is just – it's not the time.

No, now I'm doing what I know how to do. I'm making sure she's not diving head first into danger. Right now, that is all I can do where she is concerned.

XOXOXOOXOXOXOOXXOXOXOOXOXOXOOXXOXOXOOXOXOXOOXXOXOXOOXOXOXOOXXOXOXOOXOXOXOOXXOXOXOOXOXOXOOXXOXOXOOXOXOXOOXXOXOXOOXOXO

Sitting in English Lit 101, I can't help but think about Cooper. I miss him. Since I began my secret assignment, I've been staying in Kara's room a lot, in Melissa's old bed. I know. A bit morbid, but don't worry, I had Housekeeping put a new mattress on the bed, and I've purchased new sheets.

I've had Sally from Registration do me a favor in return for setting her up with Detective McKee, who she had spotted during the investigation the day that Melissa died. She expressed an interest and I called McKee. He was only too happy to ask out the really pretty young woman. As a result, she has added me – under my alias Anna Benson, of course – to a few classes that Kara is in, to get an inside scoop on this potential scandal between some of the school's teachers and some of their students. And she is to tell _no one _about this favor. So far, so good.

I won't lie; the classes are really exciting. Being in school is something I missed out on and I love it. It's made work a little tougher. I've had to create excuses for moving my schedule all around, but they've been pretty understanding, because I am getting the work done and then some. I mean, technically I am at work a lot more since I started this little bit of undercover work.

Kara has taken me shopping, to help me not look "so ancient."

As a result, I am clad in a god-awful short skirt with heels that I can barely walk in, my hair has been waved an excessive amount with a curling iron, and I am wearing so much makeup, I barely look like me.

But it seems to be working. I'm fitting in. I gaze at Mr. Moreno, our English Lit teacher. And I have to admit; the man is _gorgeous. _He loves teaching, you can just tell in every word that comes out of his mouth. I really don't think that he could possibly be—

"Miss Benson, could I have a word?" Mr. Moreno says, cutting right into my thoughts. I look around, realizing the students around me are collecting their books and talking about evening plans. Class is over.

I am going to have a hard time passing my courses in college if I keep daydreaming. I should probably work on that. And it's probably what Mr. Moreno wants to talk about.

I instantly blush and stand. "Of course." I quickly put my books in my satchel and walk up to the front of the classroom.

Mr. Moreno stares at me a moment too long before clearing his throat. It's a look I recognize. I'm… pleased. I think. Also a little frightened. I mean, one of our teachers is potentially sleeping with students and then killing them. But… this is why I am doing this. To find that person. And put them away forever.

"What can I do for you?" I ask him, hoping it's not Mr. Moreno. A man this cute should _not _be a killer. He should be my rebound romance.

"I, um…" he stammers, clearing his throat again. "I noticed that you were a little distracted throughout class. And I just wanted to make sure everything was alright."

"I'm sorry about that," I say, trying to think of what to say. To be honest, his cuteness is magnified up close. I'm at a total loss for words.

"It's just… you usually have some great comments during class." He smiles and tilts his head. "In fact, I really look forward to those, um… comments."

I smile and really blush.

"I know you missed a few weeks of the semester," he adds. "Due to the death of your parrot in Milwaukee."

I swallow, really wishing he could forget the lie I offered up on my first day of class two weeks ago. "Yes. My dear old bird, my childhood best friend."

His eyebrows shoot up and I instantly wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. This is why I don't date. I absolutely suck at talking to men! I smile, though, and to my relief he smiles back. Really smiles.

"I thought perhaps you might benefit from some extra help."

Extra help? "Like, with you?"

He smiles and looks into my eyes. "With me."

I nod slowly like I'm considering this. "I think you're right," I say. "I could definitely benefit from some extra help."

I walk back to my office on cloud nine, a huge smile plastered across my face. At six o'clock tonight, I'll be on a date with Mr. Moreno! Well, not a date. I know that. He knows that. It's just extra help. Tutoring. But… he's so hot.

I walk into my office almost giddily but stop dead in my tracks when I see that there's someone already in my office.

Cooper.

He opens his mouth to say something when he stops, noticing my appearance. He scans me quickly and looks back up at me, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into all his wavy dark curls.

"Just what are you up to?"


End file.
